Christ, The Messiah runs long

What a weekend it was. Madison had two rehearsals on Saturday for the two concerts on Sunday.

The first concert, at 2pm, was called "OrKIDstra" with the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra, at the Eastman Theatre. This is a series that the RPO does four or five times per year, special concerts for children. They always sell out. This one was a holiday show featuring "The Polar Express," a musical rendition of Chris Van Allsburg's beautiful book.

You'd think such a thing would be cheesy. In this day and age, what isn't? But it wasn't, it was beautiful. The Bach Children's Chorus combined with the Amadeus Chorale and a great baritone from the Eastman School. The baritone sang the part of the narrator, which was almost exactly just a simple word-for-word rendering of Van Allsburg's book. The choir sang a kind of echo part that was fairly musically complex. All in all, just lovely.

Then afterward we ZOOOOMED across town to a 4 o'clock concert at the Hochstein School of Music & Dance where the choir was doing The Messiah with the Rochester Oratorio Society and the Rochester Chamber Orchestra.

It was long. Really, really, long. I'd forgotten just how long The Messiah is. Two and a half hours. David took Ella home at intermission, it was just too much. And for the last 3/4 of the program, the choir was up there on stage with the the Oratorio Society and the Orchestra.

For 77 kids to have such a rigorous day of concerts, that's asking a lot. I hadn't realized that they'd have to stay up there motionless on the stage for 2 hours. I am pretty sure Madison had not realized it. And some of the younger kids did NOT rise to the occasion. They forgot (or didn't care?) they were up there, and some started whispering. A couple even played some hand game called "chopsticks." It was distracting.

But not MY kid.

No, Madison pretty much sat rigidly at attention, with her face turned toward the conductor. Once, she carefully put a restraining hand on the girl next to her--unfortunately, the girls misbehaving were only a few kids to her left, but otherwise was perfect. Perfect. My little 8-year-old. I was so proud. I know how hard it is not to be distracted by such things. I found myself feeling a bit relieved that there were so few boys in the choir.

At intermission, the choir manager, June Santini (the Great Santini) read the choir the riot act. And they were a lot better behaved in the second half. But the thing is, it's such a LONG piece, and the time between their numbers ran to 45 minutes or more. They'd had a long, hard day, and many of them almost started falling asleep. Lots of yawns. Some slumps. Some chins on hands. Some heads on back of seats.

I watched Madison's face, and it reminded me of this great video we have of her, at about age 1, in her high chair. It's a 3-minute segment of her falling asleep in the high chair, trying not to, jerking her eyes open, and finally succumbing. On the other hand, this 8-year-old has a force of will that the 1-year-old did not. I was so impressed with her keeping herself focused and awake.

The soloists that they had for the four parts were great. The bass was particularly impressive, a guy named Derrick Smith who is a faculty member at Eastman and has sung opera all over the world. I would give a lot to see him do "Porgy," which is apparently one of his roles. The alto soloist, I can't remember her name, is blind, and the kids got to meet her and her guide dog after the performance. Very interesting for them to see her with a Braille score up on stage.

I had a $5 gift card from Target which could only be used yesterday (I know, weird) so after the performance Madison and I went out (alone...which, I can't remember having been able to do with her in the last six years so that was nice) for Indian food and then to Target so she could spend the gift card on whatever she wanted. She spent over 45 minutes carefully going through the options, and finally selected a black-and-white stuffed puppy which she named Pepper.

I told her that she'd earned the three of us a day in which she gets to do anything she wants. So, today is a mental health day. Well, at least, a mental health morning. No school. She and Ella are playing Club Penguin. I get to finish decorating for Christmas, organize the attic, and organize the basement. Then we'll go to their gym-and-swim class, the library, and karate. And then more of doing Whatever Madison Wants.

I kind of wish they weren't so delighted with the No School option. Ah, well, who said my kids were different from any other.